


Turbulence

by WriterOfManyColours



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Banter, Dean's scared of planes, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, god im so crap at summarys agh, i promise this isnt as bad as the summary, i really dont know what to tag this as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:08:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8187199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterOfManyColours/pseuds/WriterOfManyColours
Summary: When Dean boarded the plane, he didn't think he'd be getting more than teasing from his brother and a billion different reasons as to why he should never go on a plane ever again. Fortunately for him, things don't play out the way he thought they would..Or....The one where Dean is on a plane with lots of turbulence and, in blind terror, grabs hold of a stranger's trench coat.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This story was originally posted on another account, but it was unedited and basically awful so hopefully this is better. I hope you enjoy reading!!

"Ouch, Dean! That hurts!" 

Only once Sam had voiced his pain did Dean realize how tightly he'd been gripping onto his brother's wrist. He forced his fingers to straighten and latched them onto the armrest instead.

"Sorry, Sammy," he managed gruffly, feeling the fear crawling up his throat, closing it up and restricting his short, sharp breaths. He bit his trembling bottom lip and stared straight ahead at the seat in front in an attempt to forget where he was.

"Jeez, dude, you need to calm down," Sam said, voice laced with worry as he noticed the quick rise and fall of Dean's chest. Dean glared at him as best he could without moving his head.

"Calm down?" Dean growled through gritted teeth. "Real helpful, Sammy. Thanks a bunch."

The little brother rolled his eyes at the sarcasm.

"Just.. Imagine you're somewhere else," Sam suggested, before turning round to accept fruit from a pretty, blonde air hostess. Easy for some, Dean thought as he watched Sam calmly munch his way through an apple, not a care in the world.

Dean returned his gaze to the seat in front and closed his eyes, deciding to try Sam's suggestion. After all, the kid got into Stamford. He's gotta know something. 

Taking a deep breath, he cast his mind back to a memory that never failed to calm him. It was the summer of '95, when he was 16, Sammy was 12 and his parents were still together. When they were a happy, unbreakable family with no problems, no arguments, no damn _fighting_.

Dean remembered lying on his back on the beach, head resting lazily in the sand, the sun a comforting warmth on his smiling face. He remembered Sammy's childish giggles as Dad tickled him into submission for stealing a lick of his ice cream. He remembered the salty sea breeze whipping Mom's hair into a golden tornado and her frustrated growl as she tried to tame it into a ponytail. He remembered the cries of the gulls seemingly floating in the wind just a few meters above them. He remembered the towering cliffs stretching high into the light blue of the sky, topped with long blades of grass fluttering in the fresh, ocean air. He remembered leaving the dry warmth of the beach to go paddling in the icy temperature of the lapping waves with Sammy, and not regretting it one bit because Sammy's delighted squeals were priceless.

Most of all, he remembered the sea. It was a swirling mess of blues and greens and almost-blacks; a kaleidoscope of colour. The sun's brilliant light reflected off it's surface, shimmering and glittering as the waves gently moved up and down. It was peaceful yet dangerous, powerful yet calm, formidable yet alluring; a wonderful concoction of anger and passion. He came back to the seaside in his mind many times after the trip. When his parent's spat venomous insults at each other, when Sammy crawled into his bed to escape the vicious fighting, when he had to comfort his crying mother, devastated by her broken marriage. Every single time, he came back to the seaside and stared at the chaotic sea, mesmerized by it's fierce beauty.

The sensation of movement from underneath broke him out of his thoughts, causing his stomach to perform a double backflip as he realized the aeroplane was preparing for take off. His face, so relaxed and careless a few seconds ago, was now tense and creased with anxiety.

"Dean, you okay?" Sam asked, gently touching Dean's stiff shoulder.

"Fan-freaking-tastic," replied Dean rigidly before licking his dry lips. Looking around for a distraction, he made the mistake of looking out the window. Seeing the speed in which he was traveling did nothing to help his now wildly hammering heart. Dean closed his eyes again and hissed a small curse.

"We'll be up before you even notice," Sam said soothingly, with the look of a sad puppy in his large eyes. Just as he said that, Dean felt the plane jolt suddenly and lift into the air in one, terrifying whooshing sensation.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Dean muttered under his breath, grimacing.

Unbeknownst to him, Sam was smiling silently by his side at the sight of his older brother. With all the things Dean had gone through and conquered, Sam took comfort in the proof that his older brother was, in fact, human.

"Sammy, I swear to god, if you are laughing I will kick your punk ass to-" Dean's voice squeaked and faltered as the plane hit a pocket of turbulence while ascending into the sky, causing Sam to bark a laugh before he could stop himself. Dean's poisonous glare quickly silenced him and the younger brother sat back in his chair, resting his head on the comfortable cushions the plane provided.

(/~#~\\)

Eventually, the plane reached full ascent, meaning the passengers could now walk around if they so wished. Which, of course, Dean did not. He'd much rather spend the rest of the flight sunk into his seat with his eyes closed, gazing out at the sea in his head.

"Walking might help, Dean," Sam said, regarding his terrified brother with pity.

"Nah, I'm good here," Dean said with a small half smile that vanished a second later.

Sam sighed. "Well, okay. But you know, you're gonna need the toilet eventually." 

And with that he put in his earphones, leaving Dean with full focus on his bladder.

Ah shit, he thought, for the first time noticing the uncomfortable tightness of his down stairs area. Despite this, he managed to hold it in a couple of hours, which he thought was pretty impressive. Looking at his crotch in betrayal, he took a deep breath and stood up. 

"Budge you're ass, gigantor," 

Sammy grumbled something along the lines of "jerk" but grudgingly moved his legs to let him through.

Gripping tightly onto any kind of stable object, he made his way towards the bathroom with stiff legs and a straight back. He stared straight ahead, not wanting to look at anything but his destination, afraid that if he didn't focus he'd head straight back to his chair like a massive wimp. Which he was not.

After what seemed like an eternity, Dean finally made it to the toilet door, where his trembling fingers fumbled with the handle. After a few seconds the door opened, revealing the cramped, claustrophobic area he was supposed to do his business. 

The moment he saw the toilet, all the horror stories he'd heard came back to him. Was he going to be sucked out? Spat out into the air like olive pip? Was his last moment going to be spent shooting through the air, trousers by his ankles, ass crack showing for everyone to see? Shuddering, Dean forced himself to remember the soothing calm of the sea and the peaceful sound of waves crashing against the rocks. Only once his mind had calmed down did Dean actually do what he came to do.

Once he'd finished his business, he hesitated to flush the toilet. Could you get flushed out? Making his mind up, he unlocked the door and opened it. Then, eyes half closed and mouth set in a grimace, he pressed the flush button and darted out the bathroom, slamming the door close behind him.

Looking down, Dean registered the fact he was still alive and not, in fact, falling to his death. Smiling in victory, he was just starting the journey back to his seat when the plane suddenly jolted underneath him, giving him the heart-stopping sensation of falling.

A high pitch noise, probably on the same frequency as a bat, left his gaping mouth and his hand shot out on instinct, randomly grabbing at anything remotely stable. Dean closed his eyes tightly shut as his hand made contact with something hard and steady, which he latched onto with a monkey-like grip. Time, like Dean's thought process, seemed to grind to a halt. All he could register was the flipping of his stomach and the sweat gathering on his palms.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!_

A small voice in the back of his head was trying to remind him of something but Dean was to terrified to think in logical steps, his brain too scrambled by the idea of impending doom. The voice got louder, rational thought trying to break through his wall of instinctive terror. It was trying to remind him of something to calm him down, but Dean couldn't put his finger on what it was. His mind was cloudy, his only thought was to get out of there. But where was he to go? Sweat trickled down his forehead, trailing down his face on to his neck. Biting his lip, he tried to remember the magic memory to sooth his nerves, but what was it? What was it?

"You seem to be suffering quite severe anxiety," came a low, gravelly voice. It cut through the thick fog in his mind like knife through butter, and time seemed to speed back up to normal.

Dean slowly cracked open his eyes and looked towards the source of the voice. It was then that he saw what the voice had been trying to remind him of. Alluring, swirling, mesmerizing pools of blue, shimmering and glittering with smalls flecks of light. Calming yet powerful, fierce yet peaceful, passionate yet soothing. The incredible depth of the sea, captured in the eyes of a confused looking stranger. A stranger standing very close to Dean. A stranger who also happened to be an incredibly hot dude. A stranger wearing a trench coat that Dean was currently gripping onto like his life depended on it while staring into his eyes like some creepy serial killer.

Dean leapt from the stranger as if he were on fire, hitting his head on the wall in the process. 

"Shit, man, I'm sorry, I didn't mean t-to," he blubbered, uncomfortably running a sweaty palm through his hair. The stranger cocked his head, a bit like a confused puppy.

"Why are you apologizing?" His voice had a deep, rough texture that resonated in Dean's chest, making him stutter even more.

"Because, I- I mean, I just g-grabbed your- I didn't mean t-to-" Dean cut off as the plane jolted underneath them once more, and he barely stopping himself from grabbing the attractive stranger again.

"I assume you're scared of flying," the stranger asked with sympathy shining from his azurite orbs, ignoring Dean's embarrassing inability to talk.

"No. I mean yeah. I mean, maybe. I don't know," he stammered in reply. Nice going, he chastised himself internally. Real smooth.

"You know, you're more likely to be bitten by a shark than die in a plane crash" the stranger said before frowning, his forehead creasing into a hundred little lines. "Or is it the other way round?"

It was then, gazing into the ocean eyes of a complete stranger, Dean laughed, completely forgetting his location and his sweaty palms and his stomach flips. Completely forgetting everything but those swirling pools of blue.

"I apologize, I'm not helping you in the slightest," the stranger said, turning around and backing away, seemingly not registering Dean's improved mood.

"Woah, dude, wait!" Dean said before putting a hand on the stranger's shoulder and turning him around. It was only then that Dean realized he didn't actually know this man and had no right to be forcibly turning him around. Not that the stranger seemed bothered. He simply regarded him with another curious head tilt.

"Um... Hey, I'm Dean," he said with a small, awkward smile. The man stared at him for couple of seconds before mirroring Dean's introduction.

"Hello, Dean. My name is Castiel."

Knowing tall, dark and handsome's name, for some reason, gave Dean the confidence he needed to form a sentence. "Well, Cas-Can I call you Cas?" Dean continued before Castiel could answer. "Well, Cas, I'm sorry for the... Grabbing... And the... Pulling..."

"It's okay, Dean, no harm was done," 

They both stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure of what to say.

"So... Where are you going after touchdown?" asked Dean, finally.

Castiel smiled for the first time since they'd met. Dean found himself staring at his lips, just as enthralled with those as his eyes. _God, what's wrong with me? Concentrate, Winchester!_

"I'm moving in with my older brother, Gabriel,"

"Oh yeah?" Dean said, raising his eyebrows, "How come?"

The smile dropped from Castiel's face as quickly as it had appeared. "There was some... Family disagreements. Gabriel is the only member of my family to side with me,"

Dean grimaced with sympathy, leaning against the wall behind him. 

"Oh yeah, I hear ya with the whole "family disagreements" thing. It’s a bitch,"

Castiel frowned and cocked his head, a common Cas motion as Dean was beginning to learn. "You understand what it's like to be disowned by almost all your family?"

If anyone else had said that, Dean would have thought they were being sarcastic or defensive. But with Cas, the guy seemed to be genuinely asking. So Dean gave him a genuine answer.

"Well, I can't say I know what it's like to have almost all my family disown me, but my dad was pretty pissed after I sided with mom when they divorced," 

_...What the hell? Why the hell did I tell him that? Do you want him to think you're a stuttering, over-sharing, weirdo creep?_

"Actually, I'm just coming back from visiting him now," Dean rambled on, heedless to his inner voice asking him what in the actual hell he was doing, telling a stranger his freaking life story. Sammy would be proud with all this sharing and caring he was doing.

"I'm sorry," Cas said compassionately, warmth shining from his glistening eyes, birthing the strange sensation of butterflies in Dean's stomach. Strange, but not unpleasant.

"It ain't your fault,"

"Correct. But I'm sorry none the less," he replied, offering Dean a small smile, which he returned easily.

"My family are extremely catholic, and don't approve of my 'life choices'," he continued, motioning speech marks in the air with long fingers.

"Life choices?" Dean frowned in confusion.

"I'm gay," he stated, bluntly. Dean blinked for a few seconds, shocked at the casualness of the statement.

"Wow, Cas. Your family are douchebags"

Cas huffed humorlessly. "Yes, I'm afraid they are,"

Just as he said that, the pilot spoke through the speaker, reminding Dean he was still on a plane.

**"Hello, this is your pilot speaking. We are about to begin our descent, so if passengers would like to start making there way back to their seats, it would be greatly appreciated. Thank you."**

Dean could feel his heart sinking. Descent? Already? But he wanted to talk to Cas, dammit!

"Well, um.. Goodbye, Dean. It’s been nice talking to you," Castiel said with a sad smile, before turning away to head back to his seat. Dean watched him for a few seconds before sighing.

"Cas, wait." Castiel turned around, surprise and puzzlement written on his face. Dean, before he could lose his courage, quickly scribbled his phone number on a piece of paper and passed it to him.

"Look, you seem a pretty cool guy, so.. Text me, yeah?" Dean held his breath, waiting for the other man's reply. Cas looked down at the piece of paper blankly before smiling and looking back up at Dean, eyes sparkling like diamonds.

"Okay, Dean"

**"If passengers could please make there way back to their seats, ready for decent. Thank you."**

Dean offered crooked grin. "See ya around, Cas." 

And with that, Dean walked back to his seat, humming cheerfully to himself.

"Dude! Where have you been?" Sammy exclaimed once Dean had made it back.

"Around." Dean replied unhelpfully, a small smile on his face as he closed his eyes, recalling swirling pools of blue.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! If you have any praise or constructive criticism, please feel free to leave a comment or a kudos, I would greatly appreciate it! Thanks again :D  
> Sophie xx


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